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The text of
this edition is taken from
The Poems of Sir Thomas Wiat edited by A.K. Foxwell, London 1913. The
modern
spelling version and the notes are provided by the Webmaster of this
site.
The notes are not intended to be exhaustive, but to provide the minimum
assistance to students for whom the poems are new.

1

Myn owne
John Poynz, sins ye delight to know
The
cause why that homeward
I me drawe : And
fle
the presse of courts wher so they goo :

Rather than to live thrall,
under the awe Of lordly lokes, wrappid within my cloke :
To will and lust lerning to set a lawe ;

It is not for bicawse I skorne
and moke The power of them, to whome fortune hath
lent Charge over us, of Right, to strike the
stroke :

But true it is that I have
alwayes ment Lesse to estime them then the common sort,
Of owteward thinges, that judge in their
entent.

Withowte regarde what doeth
inward resort. I grant some tyme that of glory the fyer Doth touch my hert ; me list not to report

Blame by honor, and honor
to desire, But how may I this honor now attayne. That cannot dy the color blake a lyer ?

My Poynz, I cannot frame
me tune to fayne, To cloke the trothe for praise withoute
desart, Of them that lyst all vice for to retayne.

I cannot honour them that
settes their part With Venus and Baccus all theire lyff long
; Nor hold my pece of them al tho I smart.

I cannot crowche nor knelle
to do so grete a wrong, To worship them, lyke Gode on erthe alone,
That ar as wollffes thes sely lambes
among.

I cannot speke and loke lyke
a saint ; Use wiles for witt, or make deceyt a
pleasure ; And call craft counceill, for proffet
styll to paint.

I cannot wrest the law to
fill the coffer With innocent blode to fede my sellff fat
; And doo most hurt where most help I offer.

I am not he that can alow
the state Of high Cesar, and dam Cato to dye, That with his deth dyd skape oute of the
gate

From Cesares handes (if Lyve
do not lye), And would not lyve when lyberty was lost ;
So did his hert the common wele aplye.

I am not he suche eloquence
to boste To make the crow singing as the swan ; Nor call the Lyon of cowardes bestes the
moste

That cannot take a mous as
the cat can ; And he that dythe for hunger of the gold Call him Alessaundre ; and say that Pan

Passeth Apollo in musicke
manyfold ; Praise Sir Thopias for a nobyll tale, And skorne the story that the knyght told
;

Praise him for counceill
that is droncke of ale, Grynne when he laugheth that bereth all
the swaye, Frown when he frowneth and grone when he
is pale ;

On othres lust to hang boeth
nyght and daye ; None of these poyntes would ever frame in
me, My wit is nought, I cannot lerne the waye
;

And much the lesse of thinges
that greater be That asken helpe of colours of devise To Joyne the mene with eche extremitie ;

With the neryst vertue to
cloke alwaye the vise ; And as to pourpose, likewise it shall fall
To presse the vertue that it may not rise

As dronkenes, good felloweshipp
to call ; The frendly ffoo with his dowble face, Say he is gentill, and courtois
therewithall ;

And say that favell hath
a goodly grace In eloquence ; and crueltie to name Zele of Justice ; and chaunge in tyme and
place ;

And he that sufferth offence
withoute blame Call him pitefull ; and him true and playn
That raileth rekles to every mans shame ;

Say he is rude that cannot
lye and fayn ; The Letcher a Lover ; and tirannye To be the right of a prynces reigne.

I cannot I, no no it will
not be ! This is the cause that I could never yet Hang on their slevis that way, as thou
maist se,

A chipp of
chaunce more than a pownd of witt.
This
maketh me at home to hounte
and to hawk, And
in fowle weder at my booke
to sitt ;

In frost
and snowe then with my bow to stawke
; No
man doeth mark where so I
ride or goo ; In
lusty lees at libertie I
walke ;

And of
these newes I fele nor wele nor woo,
Sauf
that a clogg doeth hang
yet at my hele. No
force for that; for it is
ordered so,

That I may
lepe both hedge and dike full well.
I
ame not now in Fraunce to
judge the wine With
saffry sauce the delicates
to fele.

Nor yet in
Spaigne where oon must him inclyne
Rather
then to be outewerdly
to seme; I
meddilll not with wittes than
be so fyne.

Nor
Fflaunders chiere letteth not my sight to
deme Of
black and white, nor taketh
my wit awaye With
bestlynes ; they beestes
do so esteeme.

Nor ame I
not where Christe is geven in pray
For
mony, poison and traison
at Rome,-- A
comune practise used nyght
and daie.

But here I
ame in Kent and Christendome, Emong
the muses where I rede
and ryme, Where
if thou list, my Poynz,
for to com, Thou
shalt be Judge how I do
spend my tyme.

Mine own John
Poyns, since ye delight to know The
cause why that homeward I me
draw, And
flee
the press of courts where so they go,

Rather
than to live thrall,
under the awe
Of lordly looks, wrappèd within my cloak,
To will and lust learning to set a law;

It
is not for because I scorn
and mock
The power of them, to whom fortune hath lent
Charge over us, of Right, to strike the stroke;

But
true it is that I have alwayes
meant
Less to esteem them than the common sort,
Of outward things that judge in their intent

Without
regard what doth inward
resort.
I grant some time that of glory the fire
Doth touch my heart; me list not to report

Blame
by honour, and honour
to desire.
But how may I this honour now attain.
That cannot dye the colour black a liar?

My
Poyns, I cannot frame my
tune to feign,
To cloak the truth for praise without desert
Of them that list all vice for to retain.

I
cannot honour them that sets
their part
With Venus and Bacchus all their life long;
Nor hold my peace of them although I smart.

I
cannot crouch nor kneel to
do so great a wrong,
To worship them, like God on earth alone,
That are as wolves these silly lambs among.

I
cannot with words complain
and moan,
Nor suffer nought; nor smart without complaint;
Nor turn the word that from my mouth is gone.

I
cannot speake and look like
a saint,
Use wiles for wit, or make deceit a pleasure
And call craft counsel, for profit still to paint.

I
cannot wrest the law to fill
the coffer
With innocent blood to feed my self fat,
And do most hurt where most help I offer.

I
am not he that can allow the
state
Of high Caesar, and damn Cato to die,
That with his death did scape out of the gate

From
Caesar's hands (if Livy
do not lie),
And would not live when liberty was lost;
So did his heart the common weal apply.

I
am not he such eloquence to
boast
To make the crow singing as the swan;
Nor call the lion of coward beasts the most

That
cannot take a mouse as
the cat can;
And he that dieth for hunger of the gold
Call him Alexander; and say that Pan

Passeth
Apollo in music manifold;
Praise Sir Thopas for a noble tale,
And scorn the story that the knight told;

Praise
him for counsel that
is drunk of ale,
Grin when he laugheth that beareth all the sway,
Frown when he frowneth and groan when he is pale;

On
others lust to hang both
night and day.
None of these points would ever frame in me,
My wit is nought, I cannot learn the way.

And
much the less of things
that greater be
That asken help of colours of devise
To join the mean with each extremity;

With
the nearest virtue to cloak
alway the vice;
And as to purpose, likewise it shall fall
To press the virtue that it may not rise:

As
drunkeness, good fellowship
to call;
The friendly foe with his double face,
Say he is gentle, and courteous therewithal;

And
say that Favel hath a goodly
grace
In eloquence; and cruelty to name
Zeal of Justice, and change in time and place.

And
he that suffereth offence
without blame
Call him pitiful; and him true and plain
That raileth reckless to every man's shame;

Say
he is rude that cannot lie
and feign;
The lecher a lover; and tyranny
To be the right of a prince's reign.

I
cannot I, no no it will not
be!
This is the cause that I could never yet
Hang on their sleeves that weigh, as thou mayst
see,

A chip of chance
more than a pound of wit. This
maketh me at home to hunt
and to hawk, And
in foul weather at my book
to sit;

In frost and snow
then with my bow to stalk; No
man doth mark where so I ride
or go; In
lusty leas at liberty I walk;

And of these news I
feel nor weal nor woe, Save
that a clog doth hang yet
at my heel. No
force for that; for it is ordered
so,

That I may leap
both hedge and dyke full well.
I
am not now in France to judge
the wine With
savoury sauce the delicates
to feel.

Nor yet in Spain
where one must him incline Rather
than to be outwardly, to
seem; I
meddle not with wits that be
so fine.

Nor Flander's cheer
letteth not my sight to dim
Of
black and white, nor taketh
my wit away With
beastliness; they beasts do
so esteem.

Nor am I not where
Christ is given in prey For
money, poison and treason at
Rome,-- A
common practice used night and
day.

But here I am in
Kent and Christendom, Among
the muses where I read and
rhyme, Where
if thou list, my Poyns, for
to come, Thou
shalt be judge how I do spend
my time.

Mine
own John Poyns, since ye delight
to know The cause why that homeward
I me draw, And flee the press of courts
where so they go,

Rather than to live
thrall, under the awe
Of lordly looks, wrappèd within my cloak,
To will and lust learning to set a law;

It is not for because
I scorn and mock
The power of them, to whom fortune hath lent
Charge over us, of Right, to strike the stroke;

But true it is that
I have alwayes meant
Less to esteem them than the common sort,
Of outward things that judge in their intent

Without regard what
doth inward resort.
I grant some time that of glory the fire
Doth touch my heart; me list not to report

Blame by honour,
and honour to desire.
But how may I this honour now attain.
That cannot dye the colour black a liar?

My Poyns, I cannot
frame my tune to feign,
To cloak the truth for praise without desert
Of them that list all vice for to retain.

I cannot honour them
that sets their part
With Venus and Bacchus all their life long;
Nor hold my peace of them although I smart.

I cannot crouch nor
kneel to do so great a wrong,
To worship them, like God on earth alone,
That are as wolves these silly lambs among.

I cannot with words
complain and moan,
Nor suffer nought; nor smart without complaint;
Nor turn the word that from my mouth is gone.

I cannot speake and
look like a saint,
Use wiles for wit, or make deceit a pleasure
And call craft counsel, for profit still to paint.

I cannot wrest the
law to fill the coffer
With innocent blood to feed my self fat,
And do most hurt where most help I offer.

I am not he that
can allow the state
Of high Caesar, and damn Cato to die,
That with his death did scape out of the gate

From Caesar's hands
(if Livy do not lie),
And would not live when liberty was lost;
So did his heart the common weal apply.

I am not he such
eloquence to boast
To make the crow singing as the swan;
Nor call the lion of coward beasts the most

That cannot take
a mouse as the cat can;
And he that dieth for hunger of the gold
Call him Alexander; and say that Pan

Passeth Apollo in
music manifold;
Praise Sir Thopas for a noble tale,
And scorn the story that the knight told;

Praise him for counsel
that is drunk of ale,
Grin when he laugheth that beareth all the sway,
Frown when he frowneth and groan when he is pale;

On others lust to
hang both night and day.
None of these points would ever frame in me,
My wit is nought, I cannot learn the way.

And much the less
of things that greater be
That asken help of colours of devise
To join the mean with each extremity;

With the nearest
virtue to cloak alway the vice;
And as to purpose, likewise it shall fall
To press the virtue that it may not rise:

As drunkeness, good
fellowship to call;
The friendly foe with his double face,
Say he is gentle, and courteous therewithal;

And say that Favel
hath a goodly grace
In eloquence; and cruelty to name
Zeal of Justice, and change in time and place.

And he that suffereth
offence without blame
Call him pitiful; and him true and plain
That raileth reckless to every man's shame;

Say he is rude that
cannot lie and feign;
The lecher a lover; and tyranny
To be the right of a prince's reign.

I cannot I, no no
it will not be!
This is the cause that I could never yet
Hang on their sleeves that weigh, as thou mayst
see,

A
chip of chance more than a pound of
wit. This maketh me at home
to hunt and to hawk, And in foul weather at
my book to sit;

In
frost and snow then with my bow to
stalk; No man doth mark where
so I ride or go; In lusty leas at liberty
I walk;

And
of these news I feel nor weal nor
woe, Save that a clog doth hang
yet at my heel. No force for that; for
it is ordered so,

That
I may leap both hedge and dyke
full well. I am not now in France
to judge the wine With savoury sauce the
delicates to feel.

Nor
yet in Spain where one must him
incline Rather than to be outwardly,
to seem; I meddle not with wits
that be so fine.

Nor
Flander's cheer letteth not my sight
to dim Of black and white, nor
taketh my wit away With beastliness; they
beasts do so esteem.

Nor
am I not where Christ is given in
prey For money, poison and treason
at Rome,-- A common practice used
night and day.

But
here I am in Kent and Christendom,
Among the muses where I
read and rhyme, Where if thou list, my
Poyns, for to come, Thou shalt be judge how
I do spend my time.

NOTES

The
poem is a free adaptation of a work
by the Italian poet Luigi Allamanni, Satire X from his Opere
Tuscana.
It criticises the many failings of court life, the duplicity and
hypocrisy
required to succeed in such a setting. Perhaps it was a faint echo from
this poem which inspired Shakespeare's Sonnet 66 Tired with all these for restful death I cry:

John Poynz (Poins, Pointz etc.) - little is known of him. He was a
courtier
and his family came from Gloucestershire.
the press of courts = the throng and oppressive activity of the (royal)
court.where so they go
= wherever they go. Courts of the period often travelled around the
countryside,
especially in summer.
under the awe / of = fearing, in awe of .
To will and lust etc. = making my whims and desires the sole rule of
conduct.
to strike the stroke = to punish.
Of outward things that judge etc. -
i.e. following the common herd, who judge things by their outward
appearance,
ignoring the inward qualities.
me list not to report etc. = I do not desire to verbally lambast
honour,
while secretly desiring it.
That cannot dye the colour black a liar = who cannot change my nature
to
become a liar any more than one can dye black to become another colour.
frame my tune = adapt my behaviour.
To cloak the truth etc. = to hide the truth and give praise where it is
not deserved.
Of them that list = of all those who wish to keep to their vices and
yet
still receive praise.
sets their part = attach their hearts to.
hold my peace of them = refrain from criticising them.
To worship them etc. = to revere, as if they were the only God, those
who
are in authority, or who have influence.
silly = innocent, foolish. The lambs are the ordinary people who are
the
victims of politicking courtiers and the powerful of this world.
I cannot with words complain etc. = I cannot pretend that I am
suffering
(when I am not).
Nor turn the word = nor give another meaning to ? Nor cause to come
back
(return) the word etc. ? Nor break my promise ? The irrevocability of
the
spoken word was proverbial. Homer frequently used the exclamation 'Oh
what
a word hath escaped the barrier of thy teeth!'
Use wiles for wit = replace natural intelligence with craftiness.
call craft counsel = describe craftiness and duplicity as good sense.
for profit still to paint = always to praise fulsomely (what is
undeserving)
in order to advantage myself.
allow the state of = consent to the autocracy of.
Cato - He opposed Caesar's acquisition of sole power and was defeated
in
the civil wars which followed the latter's rise. He took his own life
at
Utica in North Africa.
Livy = a Roman historian.
the common weal apply = devote itself to the common good; follow the
rule
of the common good.
To make the crow etc. = to pretend that the crow sings as well as the
swan.
of coward beasts the most = that is the most cowardly of beasts
(because,
for all his ferocity, he is frightened of mice).
He that dieth etc. = Midas, who was given ass's ears for praising Pan's
music more highly than Apollo's. He also was granted the wish of having
everything he touched turn to gold, with the result that he could no
longer
eat anything. This, and the following example from Chaucer, of Sir
Thobas'
and the knight's tale, are all examples of praising inferior objects
for
flattery's sake.
points - possibly Poynz.
frame in me = settle in me, become part of my nature.
that asken help etc. - the general meaning seems to be that of
distortion,
so that an average thing is made extreme by praise.
colours of devise = heraldic colours ?
the nearest virtue = whatever virtue is to hand, whatever virtue is
similar
in appearance to (a particular vice).
to press = oppress, crush.
Favel = one who practices duplicity and treachery.
cruelty to name = to (mis)name cruelty as zeal for justice, and to
excuse
it as being necessary owing to changed place and circumstances.
he that suffereth etc. = treat as a pitiful fool the person who suffers
unjustly.
and him true and plain etc. = call the person who rails and harangues
everyone
a plain honest speaker.
Say he is rude etc. = call rude and uncouth the person who cannot lie
and
cozen.
The lecher a lover = pretend that a lecherous deceiver is really a
romantic
lover.
and tyranny etc. = justify tyranny in a ruler as being part of his
divine
right.
Hang on their sleeves = accompany, follow and flatter at the elbow of.
that weigh etc. = who value more highly an inherited fortune than
natural
intelligence.
No man doth mark = no one spies on me, or reports after me (as happens
in
court).
hunt; hawk; stalk with bow; - these were all hunting activities of the
countryside
in that period.
In lusty leas = in fresh green meadows.
a clog - the reference is obscure. His freedom was perhaps restricted
in
some way.
No force for that = no matter for that.
leap both hedge and dyke - i.e. ride where I desire; go hunting.
the delicates to feel = to taste the delicacies.
where one must etc. = where a person must be eager to put on an outward
show of being good (fine) rather than actually being so.
wits that be so fine - ironic.
Flander's cheer = excessive eating and drinking. See Breughel's
paintings.
dim - other editors give deem.
to dim / of black and white = to grow so dim that I cannot tell the
difference
between b & w.
they beasts do so esteem = they, being bestial in their nature, esteem
this
beastly dissipation highly.
where Christ is given in prey for etc. = where the true doctrines of
Christ
are betrayed for etc. Rome had the reputation as a place where craft
and
plotting ruled society and the Church.
in Kent and Christendom - Kent was still considered to be a somewhat
savage
place, almost outside Christendom, so Wyatt is jokingly pretending that
it is in fact more civilised than the court.

2

Addressed
to John Poyns

My mothers
maydes when they did sowe and spyn
They
sang sometyme a song of
the feld mowse ; That
fobicause her lyvelood
was but thyn

Would
nedes goo seke her townyssh systers howse.
She
thought her self endured
to much pain ; The
stormy blastes her cave
so sore did sowse.

That when
the forowse swymmed with the rain,
She
must lye cold and whete
in sorry plight, And
wours then that, bare meet
ther did remain

To comfort
her when she her howse had dight
; Sometyme
a barlycorn ; sometyme
a bene ;
For which she laboured hard
boeth daye and nyght

In harvest
tyme, whilest she myght goo and glyne
; And
wher stoore was stroyed
with the flodd Then
well awaye ! for she undone
was clene.

Then was
she fayne to take, in stede of fode,
Slepe
if she myght her hounger
to begile. "My
syster" quod she
"hath a lyving good,

And hens
from me she dwelleth not a myle, In
cold and storme she lieth
warme and dry, In
bed of downe ; the dyrt doeth
not defile

Her tender
fote ; she laboureth not as I ; Richely
she fedeth, and at the
richemans cost, And
for her meet she nydes not
crave nor cry.

By se, by
land, of the delicates the moost Her
Cater sekes, and spareth
for no perell ; She
fedeth on boyled, bacon
meet, and roost,

And hath
therof neither charge not travaill.
And
when she list, the licor
of the grape Doeth
glad her hert : till that
her belly swell.

And at
this jorney she maketh but a jape : So
fourth she goeth, trusting
of all this welth, With
her syster her part so
for to shape,

That if
she myght kepe herself in helth To
lyve a Lady, while her liff
doeth last. And
to the dore now is she com
by stelth,

And with
her foote anon she scrapeth full fast.
Thothr
for fere durst not well
scarse appere,
Of every noyse so was the wretch
agast.

At last
she asked softly who was there. And
in her langage, as well
as she cowd, "Pepe,"
quod the othr,
"syster I ame here."

"Peace,"
quod the townysshe mowse,
"why spekest thou so lowde ?" And
by the hand she toke her
fayer and well, "Welcom,"
quod she,
"my syster, by the Roode."

She fested
her, that Joy it was to tell The
faer they had : they drancke
the wyne so clere : And
as to pourpose, now and
then it fell,

She chered
her with : "How syster, what
chiere" Amyddes
this Joye befell a sorry
chaunce, That
well awaye ! the straunger
bought full dere

The fare
she had ; for as she loke a scaunce,
Under
a stole she spied two
stemyng Ise In
a rownde hed with sherp erys.
In Fraunce

Was never
mowse so ferd, for tho unwyse Had
not ysene such a beest before,
Yet
had nature taught her after
her gyse

To knowe
her ffoo, and dred him evermore. The
towney mowse fled, she knew
whether to goo ; Thothr
had no shift, but wonders
sore

Fferd of
her liff, at home she wyshed her tho,
And
to the Dore alas, as she
did skipp, Thevyn
it would lo ! and eke
her chaunce was so,

At the
threshold her sely fote did tripp, And
ere she myght recover it
again, The
traytor Catt had caught
her by the hipp ;

And made
her there against her will remain,
That
had forgotten her poure
suretie, and rest, For
semyng welth wherin she
thought to rayne.

Alas ! my
Poynz, how men do seke the best And
fynde the wourst, by error
as they stray ; And
no marvaill ; when sight
is so opprest,

And blynde
the gyde ; anon, owte of the way
Goeth
gyde and all, in seking
quyete liff. O
wretched myndes ! there is
no gold that may

And thou
shalt fynde, when lust doeth moost
the please, It
irketh straite, and by it
self doeth fade : A
small thing it is that may
thy mynde apese.

Non of ye
all there is, that is so madde To
seke grapes upon brambles
or breers ; Nor
none I trow that hath his
wit so badd

To set his
hay for Conys over Ryvers ; Ne
ye se not a dragg net for
an hare ; And
yet the thing that moost
is your desire

Ye do
mysseke with more travaill and care. Make
playn thyn hert, that it
be not knotted With
hope or dred ; and se thy
will be bare

From all
affectes, whome Vice hath ever spotted.
Thy
self content with that is
the assigned, And
use it well that is to the
allotted.

Then seke
no more owte of thy self to fynde
The
thing that thou haist sought
so long before ; For
thou shalt fele it sitting
in thy mynde,

Madde if
ye list to continue your sore. Let
present passe and gape on
tyme to com, And
diepe yourself in travaill
more and more ;

Hens
fourth, my Poyngz, this shalbe all and
some ; These
wretched fooles shall
have nought els of me ; But
to the great God and to
his high dome,

None other
pain pray I for theim to be. But
when the rage doeth led
theim from the right, That
lowking backward, Vertue
they may se

Evyn as
she is, so goodly fayre and bright.
And,
whilst they claspe their
lustes in armes a crosse, Graunt
theim goode Lorde, as
thou maist of thy myght, To
frete inward for losing suche
a losse.

Addressed to
John Poyns

My mother's maids
when they did sow and spin They
sang sometime a song of the
field mouse: That
for because her livelihood
was but thin

Would needs go seek
her townish sister's house.
She
thought her self endured too
much pain; The
stormy blasts her cave so sore
did souse.

That when the
furrows swimmed with the rain, She
must lie cold and wet in sorry
plight, And
worse than that, bare meat
there did remain

To comfort her when
she her house had dight; Sometime
a barleycorn; sometime
a bean;
For which she laboured hard both
day and night

In harvest time,
whilst she might go and glean;
And
where store was stroyed with
the flood Then
well away! for she undone
was clean.

Then was she fain
to take, in stead of food, Sleep
if she might her hunger to
beguile. "My
sister" quod she
"hath a living good,

And hence from me
she dwelleth not a mile, In
cold and storm she lieth warm
and dry, In
bed of down; the dirt doth not
defile

Her tender foot;
she laboureth not as I; Richely
she feedeth, and at the
richman's cost, And
for her meat she needs not
crave nor cry.

By sea, by land, of
the delicates the most Her
cater seeks, and spareth for
no peril; She
feedeth on boiled bacon, meat,
and roast,

And hath thereof
neither charge not travail. And
when she list, the licquor
of the grape Doth
glad her heart, till that
her belly swell."

And at this journey
she maketh but a jape. So
forth she goeth, trusting of
all this wealth, With
her sister her part so for
to shape,

That if she might
keep herself in health To
live a Lady while her life doth
last. And
to the door now is she come
by stealth,

And with her foot
anon she scrapeth full fast.
Th'other
for fear durst not well
scarce appear, Of
every noise so was the wretch
aghast.

At last she asked
softly who was there. And
in her language, as well as
she could, "Peep,"
quod the other,
"sister I am here."

"Peace," quod the
townish mouse, "why
speakest thou so loud?" And
by the hand she took her fair
and well, "Welcome,"
quod she,
"my sister, by the Rood."

She feasted her,
that joy it was to tell The
fare they had - they drank
the wine so clear, And
as to purpose, now and then
it fell,

She cheered her
with "How sister, what cheer!"
Amidst
this joy befell a sorry
chance, That
well away the stranger bought
full dear

The fare she had;
for as she look't askance, Under
a stool she spied two steaming
eyes In
a round head with sharp ears.
In France

Was never mouse so
feared, for though unwise Had
not yseen such a beast before,
Yet
had nature taught her after
her guise

To know her foe,
and dread him evermore. The
towny mouse fled, she knew
whether to go, Th'other
had no shift, but wondrous
sore

Feared of her life,
at home she wished her though,
And
to the door alas, as she did
skip, Th'
heaven it would lo! and eke
her chance was so,

At the threshold
her silly foot did trip, And
ere she might recover it again,
The
traitor cat had caught her
by the hip

And made her there
against her will remain, That
had forgotten her poor surety
and rest, For
seeming wealth wherein she
thought to reign.

Alas! my Poynz, how
men do seek the best And
find the worst, by error as
they stray. And
no marvel, when sight is so
oppressed,

And blind the
guide; anon, out of the way Goeth
guide and all, in seeking
quiet life. O
wretched minds! there is no gold
that may

Grant that ye seek;
no war, no peace, no strife.
No,
no, although thy head were
hooped with gold, Sergeant
with mace, halberd, sword,
nor knife,

Cannot repulse the
care that follow should. Each
kind of life hath with him
his disease. Live
in delight even as thy lust
would.

And thou shalt
find, when lust doth most thee please,
It
irketh straight, and by it self
doth fade. A
small thing it is that may thy
mind appease.

None of ye all
there is, that is so mad To
seek grapes upon brambles or
briers; Nor
none I trow that hath his wit
so bad

To set his hay for
coneys over rivers; Nor
ye set not a drag net for an
hare; And
yet the thing that most is
your desire

Ye do misseek with
more travail and care. Make
plain thine heart, that it
be not knotted With
hope or dread, and see thy
will be bare

From all affects
whom vice hath ever spotted. Thy
self content with that is thee
assigned, And
use it well that is to thee
allotted.

Then seek no more
out of thy self to find The
thing that thou hast sought
so long before, For
thou shalt feel it sitting
in thy mind,

Mad, if ye list to
continue your sore. Let
present pass and gape on time
to come, And
deep yourself in travail more
and more.

Henceforth, my
Poynz, this shall be all and some:
These
wretched fools shall have
nought else of me, But
to the great God and to his
high dome,

None other pain
pray I for them to be. But
when the rage doth lead them
from the right, That
looking backward, Virtue they
may see

Even as she is, so
goodly fair and bright. And,
whilst they clasp their lusts
in arms across, Grant
them good Lord, as thou mayest
of thy might, To
fret inward for losing such
a loss.

Addressed
to John Poyns

My
mother's maids when they did sow
and spin They sang sometime a song
of the field mouse: That for because her livelihood
was but thin

Would
needs go seek her townish sister's
house. She thought her self endured
too much pain; The stormy blasts her cave
so sore did souse.

That
when the furrows swimmed with the
rain, She must lie cold and wet
in sorry plight, And worse than that, bare
meat there did remain

To
comfort her when she her house had
dight; Sometime a barleycorn;
sometime a bean; For which she laboured
hard both day and night

In
harvest time, whilst she might go
and glean; And where store was stroyed
with the flood Then well away! for she
undone was clean.

Then
was she fain to take, in stead
of food, Sleep if she might her
hunger to beguile. "My sister" quod
she "hath a living good,

And
hence from me she dwelleth not a
mile, In cold and storm she lieth
warm and dry, In bed of down; the dirt
doth not defile

Her
tender foot; she laboureth not as
I; Richely she feedeth, and
at the richman's cost, And for her meat she needs
not crave nor cry.

By
sea, by land, of the delicates the
most Her cater seeks, and spareth
for no peril; She feedeth on boiled bacon,
meat, and roast,

And
hath thereof neither charge not
travail. And when she list, the
licquor of the grape Doth glad her heart, till
that her belly swell. "

And
at this journey she maketh but a
jape. So forth she goeth, trusting
of all this wealth, With her sister her part
so for to shape,

That
if she might keep herself in health
To live a Lady while her
life doth last. And to the door now is
she come by stealth,

And
with her foot anon she scrapeth
full fast. Th'other for fear durst
not well scarce appear, Of every noise so was
the wretch aghast.

At
last she asked softly who was there.
And in her language, as
well as she could, "Peep," quod
the other, "sister I am here."

"Peace,"
quod the townish
mouse, "why speakest thou so loud?" And by the hand she took
her fair and well, "Welcome," quod
she, "my sister, by the Rood."

She
feasted her, that joy it was to
tell The fare they had - they
drank the wine so clear, And as to purpose, now
and then it fell,

She
cheered her with "How sister,
what cheer!" Amidst this joy befell
a sorry chance, That well away the stranger
bought full dear

The
fare she had; for as she look't
askance, Under a stool she spied
two steaming eyes In a round head with sharp
ears. In France

Was
never mouse so feared, for though
unwise Had not yseen such a beast
before, Yet had nature taught her
after her guise

To
know her foe, and dread him evermore.
The towny mouse fled, she
knew whether to go, Th'other had no shift,
but wondrous sore

Feared
of her life, at home she wished
her though, And to the door alas, as
she did skip, Th' heaven it would lo!
and eke her chance was so,

At
the threshold her silly foot did
trip, And ere she might recover
it again, The traitor cat had caught
her by the hip

And
made her there against her will
remain, That had forgotten her
poor surety and rest, For seeming wealth wherein
she thought to reign.

Alas!
my Poynz, how men do seek the
best And find the worst, by
error as they stray. And no marvel, when sight
is so oppressed,

And
blind the guide; anon, out of the
way Goeth guide and all, in
seeking quiet life. O wretched minds! there
is no gold that may

Grant
that ye seek; no war, no peace,
no strife. No, no, although thy head
were hooped with gold, Sergeant with mace, halberd,
sword, nor knife,

Cannot
repulse the care that follow
should. Each kind of life hath
with him his disease. Live in delight even as
thy lust would.

And
thou shalt find, when lust doth
most thee please, It irketh straight, and
by it self doth fade. A small thing it is that
may thy mind appease.

None
of ye all there is, that is so
mad To seek grapes upon brambles
or briers; Nor none I trow that hath
his wit so bad

To
set his hay for coneys over rivers;
Nor ye set not a drag net
for an hare; And yet the thing that
most is your desire

Ye
do misseek with more travail and
care. Make plain thine heart,
that it be not knotted With hope or dread, and
see thy will be bare

From
all affects whom vice hath ever
spotted. Thy self content with that
is thee assigned, And use it well that is
to thee allotted.

Then
seek no more out of thy self to
find The thing that thou hast
sought so long before, For thou shalt feel it
sitting in thy mind,

Mad,
if ye list to continue your sore.
Let present pass and gape
on time to come, And deep yourself in travail
more and more.

Henceforth,
my Poynz, this shall be
all and some: These wretched fools shall
have nought else of me, But to the great God and
to his high dome,

None
other pain pray I for them to be.
But when the rage doth
lead them from the right, That looking backward,
Virtue they may see

Even
as she is, so goodly fair and bright.
And, whilst they clasp
their lusts in arms across, Grant them good Lord, as
thou mayest of thy might, To fret inward for losing
such a loss.

NOTES

This
satire is an adaptation of the well
known fable of the town mouse and the country mouse. The latter thinks
that
all is fine and rosy in town compared with her own meagre existence in
the
flooded countryside. She therefore lands herself on her sister in town,
where food and wine are in abundance. But alas all is not as well as it
seems, for they live in fear, and the appearance of a cat puts an end
to
all rejoicing. Wyatt adapts the fable to suit his own ends, and it is
not
known on what original, if any, the poem is based.

sometime = at times.

her cave so sore did souse
= flooded her dwelling so badly.

meat = food.

dight = decorated, put in order.

glean = collect
the left-overs from the harvest.

store = her stores of food.

stroyed = destroyed.

well away ! = Alas ! An exclamation of alarm and sorrow.

undone was clean = was entirely ruined.

her hunger to beguile = to distract herself from hunger.

My sister - in the fable the mice are not usually related.

quod she = quoth she, says she.

hence from me = distant from me.

cater = caterer, cook.

at this journey etc. = at this proposed journey (to her sister) she
laughs,
(for it is so easy).

her part so to shape = to arrange things for herself in such a way.

anon = there and then.

full fast = as fast as she can.

durst not well scarce appear = scarcely dares show herself.

Life in the town is so dangerous that every noise is to be feared.

Peep = mouse language. A squeak. Or perhaps the sister's name.

by the Rood = by the cross. A mild oath. The rood was the cross on
which
Christ was crucified.

as to purpose = as it fell in the conversation, as it chanced.

a sorry chance = a sad event, a misfortune.

the stranger = the country mouse, (who was a stranger to town living).

bought full dear = paid too high a price for (i.e. her life).

askance = sideways.

steaming = shining.

In France - perhaps Wyatt was using a French translation of the
original
Aesop's fable.

unwise = ill -educated, uncouth.

yseen = seen. An old form of the past tense.

after her guise = in its (nature's) fashion.

whether = whither, where.

no shift = no stratagems, no policy.

Th' heaven etc. - i.e. both heaven and fortune were against her.

caught her by the hip = secured her forcibly. To have someone by the
hip
is to catch them in a position of disadvantage.

surety = security.

out of the way = is discarded.

care = anxiety, worry.

halberd = a long weapon with an axe type head.

that follow should = that would follow you wherever you went. Similar
thoughts
are found in Horace's odes.

his disease = a disease, disadvantage, which is its own and always
accompanies
it.

A small thing = the simple virtue of endurance and being satisfied with
one's lot.

I trow = I assure you, I believe.

hay = a net for catching small animals.

coneys = rabbits.

drag net = a net for catching fish.

Make plain thine heart = have simple desires and pleasures.

affects = desires.

spotted = stained, marked.

sitting in thy mind - i.e it is present within you already.

Mad - i.e you would be mad (if you continue your sore travail for that
which
you will never find).